Drunk and Drarry
by LynstHolin
Summary: Ficlet written as a prize for a dA contest-Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, and a case of firewhiskey get stranded together in a run-down old mansion.


Mildly suggestive

...

Draco Malfoy pushed the rotted velvet curtain aside and wiped grime off the window with his sleeve. "It's a complete white-out. We'd get lost in seconds."

Harry Potter frowned as he looked out at the wind-whipped snow. "We were only supposed to get flurries. Well, I guess we're stuck here for a while. We'll have to make the best of it."

Harry and Draco didn't dislike each other any more, but they weren't exactly at ease around each other. They'd both been feeling a bit awkward all day, really. But when Harry'd been ordered by Shacklebolt to raid the old Bathory mansion, Draco had been his first choice for a partner; he was the best the Ministry had when it came to potion detection. The two men had Flooed to the nearest wizard pub, then had walked the rest of the way to the crumbling manse. Draco had used a levitation charm to move the small trunk that he kept his testing supplies in. In cases like this, it was easier to test in the field and only bring in potions that were known to be illegal than to bring in every potion; the Bathorys were an old family, and probably had a workroom filled with hundreds of flasks.

The entire day had passed as the men searched the dark, gloomy chambers and dungeons, discovering secret passageways and hidden rooms. Draco had gathered enough incriminating samples to keep Mordecai Bathory in Azkaban for a very long time, and Harry had destroyed several forbidden books and cursed objects. Neither of them had any luck removing the disapparation wards that had been placed around the extensive grounds of the estate, and the place wan't hooked up to the Floo network. They'd emerged from the deep cellars, ready to walk out into the night to find a place to fill their growling stomachs when they heard the howling of the wind.

"How on earth did Bathory live in this place?" Draco said as he shivered. The walls did nothing to keep the wind out, and snow was starting to sift in. "The temperature must have dropped ten degrees in the last hour."

The two men set to work scavenging. They floated a lumpy mattress into a central hallway that had no outside walls, and covered it with a pile of moth-eaten quilts and one mangy-loking bear-skin rug. Draco triumphantly brought in a case of finely-aged firewhiskey as Harry used his wand to create a glowing ball of heat. "There wasn't any food to be found, but this will kill our hunger pangs."

Harry, who was already wrapped in layers of quilts, gratefully took a bottle, popping the cork and taking a deep pull. Draco joined him, though he didn't drink as fast as Harry did. The firewhiskey on empty stomachs made them tipsy fast. Tipsy turned into drunk. After a couple of hours, they blearily watched their breath form ice crystals in the air. The temperature had plunged even lower. "We're go' freezh to death,' Harry slurred.

"In situations like this, people are supposed to take their clothes off and share their body heat under the covers."

"Thash righ'! Thash wha' Arkick splorers do. Saw it on th' telly." Harry started pulling his clothes off. Draco threw his covers on top of Harry and, after quickly stripping all the way down in the frigid air, he crawled into the nest-like pile of cloth and fur right next to the other man. Harry fell asleep almost immediately, snoring loudly. Draco drifted off not long after.

...

Draco woke up when the grandfather clock in the hallway struck nine. He flinched when he opened his eyes and saw the light from Harry's heatball, and he pressed a hand to his forehead, a pained expression on his face. His wand was within reach, so he levitated his work trunk next to the mattress. He rummaged around inside the trunk, pulling out a few small vials from his testing supplies and pouring their contents together in a tiny cauldron. After taking a drink from the cauldron, his frown smoothed out, his eyes brightened, and his color improved considerably.

After performing a cleaning charm on his teeth and straightening his hair, Draco slid back under the covers, head propped up on one hand as he gazed at Harry's sleeping face. He managed to hide the calculating smirk on his face when Harry opened his eyes and groaned, "Oh, I feel _terrible_." Draco handed him the cauldron of hang-over cure. Once he was feeling better, Harry gave Draco a puzzled look. "What happened last night? Why am I naked?"

Draco ran a finger down Harry's chest. "You don't remember, lover?"

"Um..." Harry looked shocked. "We...?"

Draco pouted. "How could you have forgotten something so amazing?" His hand was on Harry's stomach. "It was soooooo good."

"It was?" Harry gasped at where Draco's hand went next.

"Let me remind you how it went."


End file.
